Glad We Had This Time Together

After what had been a walk of considerable distance I had reached the turnaround point. That which began as an idea to combine the enjoyment of some seemingly long overdue sunshine, some exercise and exploration of a new nutrition/health store soon became a healing medicine walk. The route that I "chose" to begin toward home first took me through the neighborhood, and then directly past, the house that once belonged to my grandparents (my father's parents) - we used to go there as kids,they lived in that house until my grandpa passed away when I was eleven years old. Though he wasn't my paternal grandfather (I was adopted as a baby) I felt a connection to him somehow (more so than other members of my family) and it was painful to lose him - made more so, by not being "aloud" to visit him in the hospital or go to his funeral because it was thought that it would be too upsetting for me. I was reminded of Sunday dinners at the house and a toy dog (I think it was meant to be an Airdale terrier) it was on wheels, it might have belonged to my dad when he was a boy - I would sit on it and scoot myself around. Then I got the brilliant idea that if I took enough hard cover books and wedged them between the steps of the basement stairs I could make one long ramp and ride all the way down - it was going to be so thrilling. Well as you might imagine it didn't work anywhere near as well in reality as I had envisioned. It was a rather rough ride with a very nasty, abrupt and undignified landing. I don't have to wonder about the existence of miracles - my survival is testimony enough. Though never lacking in creativity my endeavors were often rewarded with painful lessons. I should mention that a few blocks before my grandparents former house (when I realized the direction I was heading) I became aware of something flying over my head - I looked up to see a beautiful tiger swallow tail butterfly. I stopped to watch it circle overhead (well butterfly type circles which are anything but geometrical but perfect I'm sure for their purposes. I thought as I watched it fly around - "my understanding of the "medicine" of butterflies is that they are about transformation" I took note of that as I further considered "no question I am at a place in my life where there has been huge transformation occurring over the past almost 4 years now." I wondered what the butterfly was telling me right in the moment. As my awareness returns to my grandfather, I become aware of the feeling of sadness in my heart and acknowledge that I miss him that I let go of any remaining energies of resentment that I wasn't able to say goodbye to him. I recognize that though it may have served me when I was a young boy to further close my heart as I result of this wounding for additional "protection" it no longer served me now. I am committed to my heart journey and open to the release and healing of any blocks that stand between me and the free flow of love. I continued on my walk a wash with the warm inner glow of the presence of love, love for my grandfather love for myself and for life. A few blocks away was another neighborhood made familiar by another chapter of my life. I turned the corner to walk past the house that once was the home of my former wife's "aunt & uncle" (they have both since passed on - in fact this had occurred while we were still married, he, one year after and she some eight or so years later). Again these folks were not paternal relatives of my wife, they were actually related to her "step-mother" They had been a significant presence in her life growing up and extended to us both, themselves, as though we were "family." I remembered the Friday night card games (I don't remember the game) suffice to say it went on for hours and when someone finally prevailed victorious they had in their possession the princely sum of twenty to thirty cents in pennies (which was returned to the jar to be distributed to the competitors during the next week's gathering). Among those present were a few couples from the neighborhood so the banter included the updates to the respective lives of each, some conjecture and opinion in the form of gossip related to someone in the neighborhood and the U.N. had nothing on this round table as the world's problems were identified and resolved (without even interrupting the game - it's really not that difficult). As I continue on my journey I contemplate the reality that gone are all those relationships (well at least with respect to our meeting person to person) and yet there still is a relating present - these people meant something to me - the time spent in each other's company was significant. I didn't see eye to eye with some of these folks on many occasions - but just the same, it was a place to belong, to know community and find acceptance. Sure much has changed since then, but it is not enough to just say I have "moved on" it would not honour these other souls nor my heart to leave unacknowledged that they touched me, in some way, played a part in my ongoing evolution. I suppose it is not possible to further expand my heart without first acknowledging those that have continued to reside therein, if it is to become anything more than a warehouse for repressed feelings. Only a few blocks away was the townhouse (the first place my former wife and I bought together) I crossed the road and walked through the entrance gates down the driveway into the complex. Ours was a corner unit which for all intents and purposes looked the same - I suppose inside might have undergone any number of changes - who knows if it's even the same "young" couple that purchased it when we moved on. I took note of the small garden patch outside the front door - there was now a beautiful Japanese Maple which which had grown and matured considerably since I planted it. When it was purchased from the nursery - it was a spindly specimen (not much more than a single branch in a small pot) the stick that held it up was more substantial) a more fully grown plant was far more than I was prepared to pay - as it was this small sapling was $24.95. I marveled at the size of it now - it's main trunk now three to four inches in diameter. I remembered back to I think it was the first winter after it was planted (which as it turns out was Victoria's "Blizzard of 96") not only was my infant maple buried but so were cars left at the road side. The weight of the snow proved to be too much for the Charlie Brown Christmas tree-esque maple and when I dug it out I discovered it was severely fractured. I decided to try a "Red Green" intervention and using two popsicle sticks and some duct tape a splint was fashioned - nothing to do beyond that but wait and watch. Spring came and to my amazement the little maple began to grow leaves (even right to the end of the previously fractured section)- it looked as though it would survive. Upon hearing this my dad apparently reasoned well yes of course Rob is a nurse after all! I suppose the theory may have been arrived at by awareness of similar interventions to aid a fractured bone - but in truth all I did was my best to restore the tree to a condition by which the love of nature could continue to flow through it and restore it to health. Around the back side of the town house was a story that would dwarf that of the Japanese maple. About the same time I purchased a "Windmill palm" it was pretty small at the time (might have been a 12'' pot with a few palm fronds sticking out of it). I had grabbed it from a table of others which said "grows to five to ten feet" - I thought this would be perfect for the small garden bed in our back yard. When I got it home the tag said "grows to twenty to twenty five feet!!" - hmm somebody must have put it back on the wrong table (oh well- I'm not going all the way back to the nursery, and though this is the "Banana Belt" of Canada - it won't grow that tall!) Well now, here we are some twenty one years later and I must say that is one fine specimen of a palm tree (emphasis on tree!) - what do you know the tag was right, probably is approaching twenty feet tall. Of course this last stop wasn't entirely focused on the growth and maturation of my two fledgling members of the plant kingdom. Both have outlived my marriage by nearly four years at this point. That townhouse was the equity that went on to pave the way to our "moving on up" which of course was meant to be a brick in the road on our path through life together. So I absolutely must acknowledge the woman and the time we spent together, the reflections of myself that has made possible and the catalyst it became to deep soul-searching, self-exploration, self-awareness and is now paving the way to perhaps the deepest level of self-acceptance and self-love that I have known throughout my life. I now let go of the pain and sadness - the mistaken belief that I somehow failed (or worse that I am a failure). I pray that we both will remain in environments and mediums where we will continue to grow, strengthen and evolve (with all the necessary light and love). I acknowledge my deep connection to both the maple and the palm tree the living metaphors of my subsequent hero's journey and I feel that the time is near that I will stand firmly in who I am - without the need for popsicle sticks or duct tape!!

Just Another Day at the Beach

On a day that would leave no doubt that the "lion" of spring was being made manifest all the elements were being tossed by the maelstrom of natural forces into a frappe for the senses. The seaside amphitheatre was alive with energy, which was being generated to animate the show that was about to unfold.

Walking along the beach offered the opportunity to dance with the windswept surf and the pebbled landscape offered both texture and rhythmic accompaniment to each step, each footfall being consumed as though striding in petrified oatmeal.

Each aspect of this afternoon journey stood alone as cause for awe and wonder when experienced as one, in a multi-sensory holographic tapestry. My "movie" had it's own soundtrack the strains of the most heart stirring, soul-quenching music (I'm listening to on my iPod) it became nothing short of rapturous. The waves rose and fell as though choreographed and synchronized with the melodic line of the accompanying music. Upon reaching the top of the staircase that traverses the shoreline cliff face, walking was made challenging, though exhilarating, by the full assault of the headlong wind. Overhead, winged dancers perform their skyward ballet coaxed to rise and descend as multiple bows meet strings in divine orchestration. The pathway far above the beach is now shared with all forms of "canines on parade" (who incidentally do bare a striking resemblance to their owner's - shhhhhhhh!!!)

Convinced that the pinnacle of experience has surely come and gone I am quickly shown that creation knows not, my all too human limitations - just as the timpani's are signaling the soon to arrive finale of the orchestral offering - a lone para-surfer is levitated toward the heavens and is then released - the resulting splash coinciding perfectly with the crash of the cymbals.

All I can say is, my Creator - bravo!! and What do you do for an encore?!!

Or perhaps - to you the reader - ah...... well............ you had to be there!

Hey Homey

As I am walking home from downtown this afternoon - I cut through the courtyard of a low income townhouse development a few blocks from where I live. As I round the street corner I notice a group of young kids hanging out around the neighborhood community centre. They are all each in their own way defying gravity on their skateboards. I'm reminded that I had a board back when I was a teen (considerably smaller the boards we had) and it never would have occurred to me to try and do what I see kid these days doing on skateboards. For example bannisters adjacent to staircases - I thought an apt display of agility was to slide down it on one hip. Where in God's name would someone get the idea to jump their skateboard up on the rail and slide down? As I'm looking at these large boards they have, I'm thinking "it's gotta be easier to stay on a board that size." Of course I'm then reminded of my age as my next thought is - that wind blowing out of the north is damn cold today (and these kids aren't wearing jackets) meanwhile I'm all layered in my high tech sportswear. Given this reorientation to aging reality - my next thought is "if you come off that board that pavement will humble you instantaneously, and if you break something in the doing, you won't heal like the kids will" Wow though I know physiologically this is likely true how can this thought possibly be coming from the same place that my "minds eye" is seeing me slaloming on one of those boards?

My mental imagery is disrupted as I realize one of the young guys is talking to - I need to pull the iPod ear phones out so I can hear him. "Could you repeat that I missed it?"
"Hey Homey! how's it going?" (Nobody has ever called me Homey before - good thing I watch the movies - so I can "be down - for real, wit where he comin' from" fascinating to me that I ignore my impulse to point out that this is Victoria - not East L.A. or the Bronx and proceed to give him a grammar lesson. No - no - no, this is a time and place where "cool" (or whatever the venacular would be these days, I hear "sick" can mean things are really "cool" but it can apparently also mean not so very "cool" either. I was sick a few weeks ago and it was....... well........ sick can run the risk of using the word in the wrong context, oh my God I need a phrase book!) must be upheld. What the hell do I know about "cool" even when i thought I was cool I never was cool - I think right now I'm grateful, he's calling me "Homey" not "hey you old fart!"
"Ah I'm good" I replied "How are you guys doing?" "Ya we good - what choo up ta?" (Clearly he either never had the don't talk to strangers routine or he just chooses to ignore it - I suspect the latter might be closer to the truth - I gotta say I kinda admire his moxie)

"Not much - I'm just on my way home from town" I answered. "Uh huh - hey how about this, if I can land an "Ollie" (skateboard trick - both rider and board come right off the ground and back down) you have to pay me a quarter?"

"If you land a what?" (There goes the cool - right out the window), anyway I get the explanation of what he is proposing to do. I'm pretty sure I know where this is going - he can do this with is eyes closed - so it's pretty much a given this is going to cost me a quarter. Why not I think - now I kinda admire his entrepreneurial spirit. "Alright - go ahead, you're on, for a quarter"

So my young friend tossed his board to the pavement ran to catch up to it and then jumped on. He spun the board around so that he now faced those of us watching with a few powerful thrusts with one leg he now is traveling toward us with considerable speed - once he arrives directly in front (through whatever technique that was his to command) both he and the board became air borne and then touched down again upon all four wheels. He carried on down the road a short distance before spinning the board around and then coming to a complete stop. The whole performance was done seemingly oblivious to the fact that there where four wheels below him and really a relatively small surface for the feet to regain stability all between him and the asphalt and concrete surface that can painfully adorn large surfaces of the body with "road rash" or snap bones like kindling.

He steps off the board stomps on one end projecting the other end up toward him which allows him to catch one wheel in his hand all without missing a stride while walking back toward me. With a self satisfied grin he says "see I told you I could do it!"

Now some might think of this little performance - nothing more than showing off, is it right to encourage such behaviour? I happen to know that even to do that little kick the board up to your hand trick, rather than the above described result, you could just as easily flip the board up giving yourself a rather nasty crack in the shin or knee cap - which is exceedingly painful and completely self-defeating with regard to the "cool" factor or is that "sick" (I know the pain registering can give a momentary expression of sick - add to that you are with your "crew" so God forbid you let them know the pain you are experiencing - that's more pain than was issued from the original smite.

I know this guy has paid his dues to perform these stunts - for every successfully executed trick there has been a learning curve and in this case sometimes the lesson comes through becoming "one with the pavement"

"Yes you did" I replied, "wow that was awesome, I guess I owe you twenty-five cents." While I'm digging through my pouch - he says "wanna see me jump the stairs for a dollar" I answer - I believe you can do it - and no, at this rate your going to clean me out!" I both don't want to be directly involved in his trying that stunt (for fear if he doesn't "stick the landing" I've got blood on my hands) the other thing is again I suspect he probably can do it and I am aware of a line between appreciating his talent and getting "hussled."

He says, "okay - no sweat I'll do it anyway" so he takes the board up the aggregate stairs to landing in front of the Community centre. Once he is some distance from the top step he drops the board mounts one foot and with three swift thrusts with the other leg propels himself toward the staircase as he reaches the precipice of the top step he leaps him and the board achieve the Grail like "air" and he lands on the side walk below first the board then himself - he remains upright with only one foot coming off the board.

"Wow that was amazing - well done!" I said "do you take debit?" I know full well transactions of this sort are cash only - but I try to add some humour in lieu of "cool" which pretty much flew like a "Led Zeppelin" which I refrain from commenting on the reference quite likely to be lost on this group of 10-12 yr. old. males (suddenly I feel like I was once cryogenically preserved and here I am some considerable time in the future and I'm at a loss how to relate) "SICK!!"

"Where do you live I asked?" "Just over there - he motions with a head gesture - in the projects" (again I'm tempted to reorient to time and place - uh, this is Victoria - but decide against it) this is his reality - who am I to impose my story on him. I don't know what he lives with in there - could be from a home with relative stability it's also possible that he endures a reality behind closed doors that no young person should be part of. This is no profiling or stereotyping - I have walked these streets frequently - I see the evidence of some of what is going on in the area - empty saline vials and hypodermic needle packages, used condoms (well opened if not used) discarded alcohol bottles. What can be seen doesn't begin to foretell that which isn't seen.

I say to him as I'm leaving, I bet you have practiced long and hard to do these tricks and you have met the pavement more than a few times?" "You know it he says!"

"You are very courageous - I admire that!" I respond. "Hey - thanks!" is his answer. Will this seemingly simple interaction change his life - I can't say, all I know is that to be seen and receive the reflection of some accomplishment and value has been very important in my life perhaps sharing that with someone else redefines "cool."

Maybe I'll Walk This Way

Yesterday (Sunday) on what was a beautiful sunny autumn afternoon in my hometown of Victoria, B.C. I decided to go for a walk. The walk was to be "spiritual" in nature (as it happens, pun intended as it wasn't just about appreciating the visual attributes of nature - though they were stunning - the full palette of autumn colours were set ablaze by the afternoon sun, which created quite literally, a breath-taking experience at points along the journey). So while the walk wasn't purposeful in the "I have some errands to run - it's such a beautiful day I think I'll walk and get some exercise" sense - and in fact though I left home in a particular direction, there was no predetermined destination - how would I know when I arrived one might ask - actually the aim was to be "there" all the way along the route (which was to be determined moment to moment). For one such as me that can be given to very definite ideas of how things should be and how they should unfold - it was to be an exercise in "letting go" and "allowing"

As mentioned earlier the first leg of the journey had me very aware of the splendor of Mother Nature's artistry - as much as I was able, I invited the joining with the experience rather than view myself as being entirely separate from (even for my oft hyper-rational mind I could embrace that this was becoming a distinctly visceral experience therefore I wasn't just seeing - I was involved). Before long I was walking along side of one of the cities large Cathedral's (Anglican as it happens) - I "remembered" that on it's grounds was a Labyrinth - which I then decided to walk. While crossing to it's location I was again awe struck by the beauty of the sun illuminating the gentle giants that have stood their vigil for many seasons (judging by their size) among them, Garry Oaks and Maple trees. As I begin to walk the Labyrinth I realize the path is not clear (I don't mean that metaphorically - though in my case it certainly smacks of the truth) by that I meant that the discarded foliage from the surrounding trees was obliterating parts of the walkway. It occurred to me that the path would be more visible if the obstacles were cleared. Fortunately I'm just the man for the job I reasoned - though without tools my feet proved to be adequate in accomplishing my goal after which I realized that a significant portion of the Labyrinth had been covered. While moving the mixture of oak and maple leaves it occurred to me that though distinctly different the two types of trees coexisted here without conflict. As for their respected offerings (in the form of their discarded leaves) neither was of any less value to the cycles of life, as the remaining energy was returned to the earth as they decompose). I can't be certain, but I suspect neither the oak nor the maple is the least bit concerned about which offers the more dazzling autumn frock nor questions their value.

How is it that I can be so hung up on differences - comparing myself to others - what part do I play in the still existing divisiveness that exists in humanity - when shining the light of truth upon my own heart - what remaining vestiges of fear, ignorance, judgment, narrow-mindedness will I find there? If not blatant prejudices - what then exists in the form of wounds, familial or societal programming - it matters not whether a little or a lot - I must diligently seek them out and and allow them to be transformed - it is through the love, compassion & acceptance of others that I have been able to take those first shaky steps toward love of self - though painful the view in the mirror, it is expanding my capacity to love another.

From the center of the Labyrinth I turned and faced the monolith structure of the Cathedral, I marveled at the magnificence of the architecture - the skill of the trades people and artisans that tolled for untold hours to raise this structure - regardless of the theology within it's walls - I acknowledge the power of Creation as expressed through the human hands that built it. From this same center I consider the words carved upon the wall along the roof line (attributed to Jesus) and at the same time notice high upon the pinnacle of one of the roofs a modern adaptation of the Celtic Cross - a talisman of the transition from the pre-Christian times of ancient Druidic spirituality that was eradicated by the early Christian church. Was it necessary (even advisable) that all that was practiced and held sacred by these early cultures give way to the religions of the colonizers? It would seem that some of what came in it's stead was built upon the underpinning foundations of the pre-existing practices - could there not have then been evolution without bloodshed? I am drawn to one of the largest oak trees (the oak being held highly sacred in the Druidic path) on the property where I then sit and meditate at it's base. On a pathway through my all too human heart - I ponder the components of my present experience, a dogmatic perspective will not allow them to coexist, yet on this occasion I see no need for one to usurp the other. Seated upon Mother Earth on land that was no doubt the traditional territory of one of the First Nations bands beneath the sacred oak from which outstretched limbs reach toward the heavens and gather the wisdom of the universe for those of us not tall enough to reach it. In the background the Anglican Cathedral embossed with the words of the teacher Jesus (whom they for one, claim to represent) with the Celtic Cross towering above the labyrinth. The prevailing energy I am experiencing at this time is harmony - of course I am alone, even the introduction of one more person with whom to share my revelations might well open the floodgates of divisiveness once again - I feel intolerance creeping in - "it seems so simple to me" in my question lies the answer, first the intolerance in my own heart must be laid to rest.

I conclude my visit to the site with a prayer/contemplation session inside the cathedral and then walk down to the park and give thanks upon the First Nations burial grounds along the waterfront.

I am inspired to walk the labyrinth again but further to that to keep it cleared of autumn leaves that it is readily available to be walked by the next seeker. I therefore commit to clear the site for the next 30 days. What do I hope to gain from this - at the very least I want to honour the sacred (does the sacred have to be comprised of some sort of spiritual practice? Perhaps not, possibly the treating of something as sacred, in one's life becomes the spiritual practice - conversely there exist those who "practice religion" but don't hold life itself sacred. It is my vision that my life moving forward be purposeful, that it uphold that which is sacred to me without compromising the sacred space of others. I have also had surprising opportunity created by following what has presented as a "hunch" albeit not necessarily for so "public" an undertaking - who knows where the path leads?

Gratitude

Though I haven't always been conscious of what there was present in my life to be grateful for, in fact quite the contrary, I always supposed a certain set of conditions would need to be present first - often they were most apparent to me in the lives of others and of course absent in mine.

Currently I am acutely aware of the multitude of reasons I have to be grateful. The interesting thing to me is though I may be without some of what we are told by our culture via the media, represents the true measures of success, I feel no apparent lack - of course I discontinued cable service so I am grateful for the lack of commercials in my life not to mention I not only don't know what celebrity is doing what to whomever - I don't even know who most of them are.

This is a one hundred and eighty degree turn around from being someone that was very concerned with the external/material world. I can remember as a young boy begging my mom to bring some old ratty towels off the clothesline because didn't want the neighbors to think we were poor. I can't say to this day how I came to be so worried about such things - so young, I was told that I need not take the views/opinions of others so seriously - the lesson was not to come home to roost for many years. I am therefore grateful to my mom for this valuable life lesson and that she is still around to let her know I got it.

I am very grateful to my former wife - once it was decided to end our marriage we set the intention to part ways honouring each other with mutual love and respect - an intention we upheld throughout the whole process. I am grateful we worked through the dissolution on our own without the use of lawyers. Come to think of it our separation and divorce was probably one of the most beautiful things we created together.

I am grateful to live in Victoria where the beauty of nature is so readily available in such wide diversity. I'm grateful to live in a country that is not at war within it's borders and where we can express our views without fear of persecution. I am grateful for my health and even though I am not presently at what I consider to be my optimal fitness level I know exactly how to go about getting fit again. I am grateful for my condo that gives me comfortable shelter at a very affordable price and is close enough to town that I can walk in when I choose.

I am grateful that my life's journey has resulted in the healing and opening of my heart which has been the catalyst of discovery through which I am getting access to creativity expressed through singing, playing/writing music and writing.

I am grateful to have been led to the Unity Church where I am free to continue to explore my spirituality that has (and continues) to involve examining different paths which continues to affirm for me the oneness of humanity and the need to honour each other. I am not told what I must believe, there is a presence of inclusion and I find there a growing sense of community in an atmosphere of support where the spirit within each of us is acknowledged and given food for growth. I also enjoy singing with the choir or in the congregation that never fails to lift my spirit. There are always a wide variety of learning opportunities offered through the church - in fact I first heard of the writing workshop that led to this story there. I also learned about "Compassionate Communication workshops (also known as Non-Violent Communication) through them - the principles of this paradigm have been instrumental on my path of "self-discovery" as well as giving me new tools for interacting with others.

I am grateful to the vast number of people that were there for me when I decided that my life had become unmanageable due to drug/alcohol addiction. I had no idea the journey of self-discovery that would unfold from this decision. This began what I describe as my consciousness awakening and was the spark that now has become the flame of passion to know for myself - connection with God of my understanding. I am grateful to all those that have written the dozens of books that grace my shelves. Each in it's own way opens my mind to different possibilities, inspires and points to the inherent wisdom available to each of us.

I am grateful for all the events and circumstances of my life past and present that have served to make me who I am. I am grateful for a growing awareness of those aspects of my personality that are throwbacks to a time when I believed them necessary for my protection.

I am grateful for all the love in my life, stemming from some I have known for considerable time and others whom have been present in my life only a short while. Most of all I am grateful for a growing sense of love for myself. I am grateful to have found three half-sisters and a half-brother, though I have only intermittent connection what a blessing to have made that connection. Ironically my lack of familial connection, which has been the source of a lifelong story which in turn supported my sense of disconnection, though no longer rings true for me, the discovery of these family members in itself didn't bring this about. In truth the greater reason for this feeling of disconnect stems from a lack of connection to both Self and the Creator - without out this (or seemingly the conscious pursuit of this connection) nothing from outside myself will provide that sense of connection. I therefore am grateful to come to know this - though the practice of living this knowing, learning to trust in and deepen this relationship is a work in progress.

We Need a Clean Sweep!

Popular local consensus seems to indicate there is a need to get all the addicts and pushers off the streets – this aroused my curiosity – so I decided to spend some time downtown and see for myself. I must concede the rumours are true – the streets were full of addicts. If you will indulge me further I will expand upon my observations.
Now I state up front I am no more qualified to make this assessment that anyone else – it just so happens I have some time on my hands. I know there may well be those that are actually more qualified to fulfill this purpose, but they are too busy working and as far as I have been able to determine the rationale largely supported by our cultural consciousness, is that they are doing so to support the economy.

So to kick off my list, imagine how much elbow room we could create on our streets if we cleared out all those addicted to the consumer economy (you know who you are, you pay for a membership at a big box outlet, so that you can line up to get in – load your wagon full of stuff your not sure you need but it was “such a good deal” then you line up to pay for it and line up once again to get out the door). This may be one of the gravest addictions I have observed – people are truly pathological in their pursuit – they can be heard uttering in a zombie like trance “I owe – I owe so off to work I go” all the while largely holding the work and everyone they work with in contempt (as evidenced by the moments of truth witnessed at the annual staff Christmas party). Anyone that isn’t behaving in kind is vilified (“I resent my tax dollars going to support these vagrants”) it is the height of hypocrisy – the same person can be heard ranting about the criminals in government taxing them to death – but then it comes right around full circle – “well at least I’m supporting the economy”. Doesn’t matter what their doing – as long as they are working - could be building hand grenades or producing pesticides or napalm somehow that is preferable to someone that isn’t be paid for their work but are working nonetheless – trying to for example, save a stand of old growth trees, some rare caves (sacred burial sites) or trying to protect one of the many endangered species.

Once one becomes enslaved to the addiction of consumption – all forms of inhuman behaviour and attitudes come into play, this violence and acts of cruelty are supported by all levels of government and people from all ends of the socio-economic spectrum. As for the pushers, well can you just imagine the difference in the skyline if absent were the myriad of big box retail outlets that continue to supply the addicted with their next fix. Surely it must be getting close to the tipping point – it seems people have so much stuff that they have to purge their homes, leaving the previous stuff - that once was imperative to have - out on the lawn hoping that some one that is perhaps more conscious of the philosophy of recycling will come along a take it away.

Go out on a weekend and witness for yourself whole yards strewn with stuff – with people fighting over it – so that the can take it home thereby creating the need to purge their own home. Listen up here people – forget going out and paying retail for more new stuff – just go out your front door, stand on your porch – wave to your neighbor across the street and then arrange a time to swap the contents of your respective houses. Next year repeat the process with the neighbor in the house one to the right and so on.

Next on the list would have to be all those clambering over each other to be first in-line for a coffee and of course their dealers. Now I’m not going to pick on Starbuck’s in particular (far too cliché) for the purposes of this study I am including all caffeine outlets. This can be broadened in terms of those seen in attendance, to include they whom are succumbing to multiple addictions i.e. sugar and petroleum products (and by extension their car) one need only observe the drive through line to make this correlation. While on the topic of sugar this would mean we would have to round up those that make available all those designer chocolates. Dubious about caffeine being included – I present as exhibit A: anyone of those individuals in the line –up (should they doubt that they have lost control) - demonstrate for them what happens if you should position yourself between them and the counter – if not convinced yet take an informal survey around their workplace, with regard to the quality of interaction one might expect from our subject if he/she sleeps in and doesn’t get to the java dispensary before showing up to the office – they may even be convinced at that point to organize a intervention. Finally would you just look at the prices these people are willing to pay for their drug of choice (not unlike gasoline I believe sky’s the limit – more griping for sure, but no noticeable reduction in sales). Once again those dually (or more) addicted are appeased with the likes of “double whipped – whatever –a – ccino’s at about 5000 calories per cup.

Now Joe (or Josephine) taxpayer/economy booster can frequently be heard around the water cooler pontificating about how much it is costing them (personally) to support those that so happen to use, not as widely socially acceptable, forms of drugs, one wonders if they have stopped to consider what it costs them to subsidize their (or their co-workers) 2nd triple bypass (because they “work hard for their money”) and no one is going to deny them their 20 oz. coffee drink and accompanying cream filled crispy kritter - or whatever those things the young athlete’s are always flogging in the shopping center parking lot are called.

Next, thanks to the advent all these electronic communication devices, we can link those that are addicted to their “crack-berries” (or other P.D.A’s), cell phones, laptops, cars, shopping & coffee/sugar. Use of and participation in, can be seen happening simultaneously at any major intersection – God knows (no offence intended to the atheists or agnostics) I suppose if we are sweeping the streets we better include anyone that uses as a crutch (anything or any entity) other than a crutch (should one be required to remain upright) – how they are actually in control of that motor vehicle. But don’t let the concern for public safety stand in the way of the fact that they paid taxes on all that stuff – therefore they’ll use it anyway they see fit – “it’s a free country”………………….. isn’t it? Well actually it is in as much as you are free as long as you partake in the culturally acceptable addictions (you of course are free to “scratch your itch” your own way) but all those that still believe they are in control will scapegoat you.

See they have bought into “the American Dream” (never mind they are living in Canada) they can be forgiven though as there is so little Canadian content on the T.V.S they are addicted to how can they be blamed for this influence – besides – is there even a Canadian dream in existence? Work hard; pay your taxes, save your money (can you start to see where the wheels start to leave the rails?) then eventually you’ll be able to retire to a life of leisure. So my second to last addiction on the list is to the afore mentioned illusion. Last but not least, to short circuit the need to spend a lifetime pursuing the dream just keep buying those lottery tickets?

Well now imagine how I must feel to realize the state of the streets of my hometown, this is an outrage – I want all these addicts and pushers off the streets – and I want it done before the Winter Games – after all I paid my taxes.

Perhaps I am Now Teachable

Luke Skywalker had his Obi Wan Kenobi, Kwai Chang Caine his Master Po – the “Peaceful Warrior” series of books centers around the life of Dan Millman and the transformational influence of a mentor/teacher he met at an all night gas station whom he call Socrates.

I must admit that upon learning that such a relationship was possible I was saddened by it’s apparent absence in my life, encouraged that it can still occur – i.e. “when the student is ready the teacher will appear” and positively inspired upon becoming open that such a person could be developed from within me.

The idea of a presence in my life that would teach, guide, and encourage, wisely knowing just the right amount of pressure to encourage development – knowing when to back off and let me find my own way and at what point there presents a teachable moment, where wisdom relevant to a life well lived would be imparted holds for me great allure.

Many people cite one or both parents as having been an invaluable role model in their lives. There are those too that go on to shape their lives in direct contradiction to the lives of their parents. Though there is no question that I have found examples of admirable human attributes in both my parents I would hesitate to deem them as being mentors. This is not meant to hold them in a disparaging light. In fact they are not even being held responsible, as is the popular practice in our culture (or at least in some schools of thought within our culture) for what I might, consider to be lacking. They are in fact held on equal footing with virtually everyone that I have come in contact with throughout my life and that is, that there is no one person, who singularly stands out, as having had a profound influence on me.

Ironically it may well be that those absent from my life have been the catalyst that has been a compelling force in my life – by this I mean that having been adopted as a baby my birth parents are unknown to me. How can they then be seen as having had any influence on my life one might ask? Well of course they weren’t present to have taught me anything. Strangely though, their absence has always been a presence.

I feel as though I have searched my whole life for the feeling of belonging – of connection – my place in the world. A catch-22 was found instead – I continued to drift through different circles of people with different interests – deeply curious not only in how to fit in but just in how it was they were “doing life.” Invariably I found I simply didn’t feel connected or even that I could relate, and therefore would move on. It was this sense of disconnect that prevented me from forming the sort of lasting relationship that might lead to the sort of intimacy, that would give cause to the openness to be taught anything by anybody.

It has taken many years and variety of experiences, so many in fact that to me, my life as it stands, represents such a disjointed mixture of pursuits that if examined one could be forgiven if they were unable to extract a particular purpose or direction, still despite this I am clear that absent more than any mentor or life coach was a connection to myself. Having said that, the question occurs to me, if in fact I was not connected to myself to what was I connected, that compelled me to bring about the various changes in my life – sometimes in the form of what I doing, other times in who I’m being?

Clearly I have not remained in the same circumstances nor am I the same person that I was when I was currently in those circumstances. What then do I attribute the awareness to, which brought about the desire to be or do anything differently? A look at then and now pictures which were being used in conjunction with a high school reunion of mine, taking place next year indicates that from a strictly physical standpoint change has occurred, this I can assure you is the least significant of all the change that has taken place.

Spirituality, self-development, transformation, healing these are areas (if indeed there is a need to delineate) that I have a passion for. Certainly there are countless authors and their work that have held captive my interest from the first book of this sort I got hold of. Further to that as is often the case these authors cite quotations from various sources that leads me to read work of theirs or to at least know more of their lives. So unquestionably I have been inspired by a great many different people and those that have inspired them. Still beyond this, what is it that becomes inspired? What is it that cares enough, to go through what is necessary to bring about change, that it first realizes a change is necessary and then generates the required attributes, to continue in pursuit of this change? It exists from within though I’m not clear I can take credit for it – choices I’ve made that didn’t necessarily serve a higher purpose (or so it seemed at the time) obviously originated with me) still that part that opts for change “recognized” that those present circumstance at a given time no longer were acceptable – but acceptable to who? It was never enough that people in my life at those times thought I should change – in fact those that asserted a change was necessary often found one forthcoming, usually it came in the form of my no longer continuing to have them in my life. So within me there was something making choices that seemingly brought about results that were undesirable and yet the recognition of this, which brought about the growth and development necessary to transcend this challenge also came from within – so do they originate from the same source? Are they separate entities? Am I being guided by the seemingly “negative” current circumstance as a result of being uncomfortable or by some part of myself that sees more as being possible – prompting the development of those attributes that would make what is possible – manifest.

So from within comes the need to create certain realities in my life some of which might be considered undesirable or unsuccessful by some estimations. Yet also from within comes the idea (in the form of a desire) for something else. Are these opposing influences or are the seemingly disagreeable circumstances brought about for the purpose of digging deeper in order to show up as one that possesses greater depth and capacity than previously believed, or that would be necessary to remain unchanged. Who demonstrates in my life that something else is possible for my life? Sure seeing different things playing out in the lives of others can bring me hope but no lasting impact comes until I have experience I can call my own.

Therefore as I ponder who has been a teacher/mentor in my life that has been responsible for bringing about life altering changes – I would answer with the statement “the idea that “I am the one I have been waiting for all my life” takes on whole new meaning. “